Time of Dying
by byzantine satanist
Summary: "You have a few minutes of life left in you, Tsunayoshi. What's the last thing you want to do?" As Tsuna dies with a gun against his head, he calls Reborn. A thank you, a sorry, an I love you, and a goodbye in one go. R27. Title from Three Days Grace's 'Time of Dying.' Not strictly a songfic, though.


**Summary:** "You have a few minutes of life left in you, Tsunayoshi. What's the last thing you want to do?" As Tsuna dies with a gun against his head, he calls Reborn. A thank you, a sorry, an I love you and a goodbye in one go.

 **Warning/s:** R27; Angst; Fluff

:X:

 **A/N: I've been playing with this idea for a while, because writing Tsuna's death is interesting since we didn't actually get the details of what happened exactly.**

 **I wrote one of TYL!Tsuna's deaths before. It's called 'The Heart is the Worst Kind of Weapon (a very shameless advertising, lol, even though it's a completed and older fic),' and it's 10027. :)**

 **Personally, Tsuna's death is my favorite because it's so mysterious and the only ones who possibly knows about how it went would probably be Tsuna and Byakuran.**

 **Disclaimer:** Darlings, _please._

:X:

Dying hurt, of course. Tsuna had never died before but he's experienced bullet wounds, broken bones, dislocated bones and organs, yadda yadda yadda, other physical trauma that he's already expected before, and they all hurt—but dying was a different type of hurt. It had a numbness to it and somehow, if you ignored the pain, you felt like you were _floating._

"You have a few minutes of life left in you, Tsunayoshi," Byakuran commented, casually cocking his gun and letting the muzzle touch the hair near Tsuna's temple.

"I know," Tsuna said, giving a small cough and inwardly grimacing at the red droplets of blood touching the pristine white carpet. Ah, the maids will explode at the one. Blood was always hard to get rid of—they complained about why the furnishings were always white when everyone who even knows about Vongola knew that there'd be a lot of stains.

"Not even scared?" Byakuran said lightly, aiming his gun towards his own face before removing the silencer and grabbing a chair to sit on. The man was still neat and clean, meticulous and calm as he removes the silencer from the revolver.

"A bit," Tsuna admitted, watching the blood from his chest dribble down. Luckily, he was wearing a three-piece black suit today. He could feel the Flames in his body desperately attempt to heal him.

"I've always wondered," Byakuran said, again pointing his gun at Tsuna's temple, "what's the last thing you want to do?"

Tsuna turned his head, and the cold metal of the muzzle came in contact with his forehead.

"You're dying, after all," Byakuran continued. "I'm ever so curious."

Tsuna's lips twitched upward before bursting into a smile. A beautiful, bedazzling smile with blood coloring the corners of his lips and staining his chin, but Byakuran wasn't at all affected.

"I want to call someone," Tsuna said conversationally, wincing at the pain in his abdomen, "and tell them things I never managed to say." He coughed once a felt drops of blood dribbling down his chin.

Byakuran snorted at his request. "The Vongola are so keen on getting rid of regrets," he said. "But all right." The white-haired man adjusted in his seat and took out a phone

Tsuna raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "You're not even going to question me?"

The other man chuckled mirthlessly. "I already know of your plans," he reminded Tsuna.

Tsuna didn't pale much from the shock, just from the loss of blood. He cocked his head to the side ad gave a shallow breath. "You won't hurt him, would you?" he said.

"Of course not!" Byakuran said cheerfully. "That _does_ depend, though."

Tsuna gave a snort reminiscent of Byakuran's before giving a wince of pain when the bullet wound was disturbed.

"You're in love with him," Tsuna said softly.

Byakuran gave a casual grin. "Maybe." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. He unlocked the lock screen with a few swipes and handed it to Tsuna, who took it in his rather bloody hands.

He dialed the number that he was so familiar with, and hoped that the man he was calling wasn't busy or didn't change his number (he does that sometimes, without warning, and Tsuna had to track him again and again, but he doesn't have the time right now). He pressed the phones against his ear, ignoring the way his hands were staining his hair. It didn't matter. He's dying anyway.

He perked up when a deep voice answered, saying, _"Don Gesso. Something you need?"_ Short, precise, emotionless, detached. Also, rather breathy and seductive. Very Reborn-esque, Tsuna thought.

Tsuna gave a shallow breath, and the way he felt his chest tighten made him remember that he doesn't have much time left.

"Tsuna, actually," he corrected.

 _"Tsuna?"_ For the first time, Reborn sounded terribly confused, and Tsuna almost laughed. _"Why are you calling? And from Byakuran's phone?"_

"I should ask you"—he gave a quick gasp before continuing—"why you know his number."

 _"Informational purposes,"_ Reborn bit back. _"Now, why are you calling? Aren't you in the middle of a meeting?"_

"Yes, but this is urgent," Tsuna says, closing his eyes and exhaling softly. In the other end was static silence, and he knew that Reborn was waiting for him to say something.

"Reborn, remember when we met? When I was this…this scrawny thirteen-year-old who had no plans for the future and just spent the day lazing around the house with nothing better to do?"

He would have ended up a garbage man without Vongola. He thought of it so many times before. He never had dreams. He never had ambitions. He was just No-Good Tsuna who tripped on thin air and got zeroes and red marks all over his test.

He wondered, so many times, about so many _what ifs._

 _"Tsuna, what brought this up—"_

"Listen, Reborn." Tsuna wheezed slightly and covered the speaker of the phone. He felt the blood dripping onto the carpet in a steady stream. "I just want to tell you that I'm grateful."

He's a don. He had friends. Close friends who would die for him. Who adore him. Who is his family and his Family. Who wouldn't want a life like this?

A peacekeeper, maybe.

 _"Tsuna, what's—"_

"You made me go through hell," Tsuna cut him off. "But it was the type of hell the I crawled through to get to heaven. And I—I want to thank you, but right now, I can't." He paused. "I'm sorry that I can't. This isn't a good time to give you that bottle of wine I kept locked in my safe." He gave a weak laugh. "But you can have it. It's a gift that I was going to give you on your birthday. I know you adore Cheval Blanc."

Cheval Blanc. He never understood why Reborn adored the expensive wines. To him, they all tasted the same. But he had to admit that expensive wines had a texture to them that cheaper brands don't. He sometimes hated the red wine. They look like blood. He drank the Cheval Blanc once before, and he felt like he was drinking the blood of the man he killed just an hour ago.

Reborn's line was quiet, so Tsuna continued.

"I'm sorry, by the way, for when I was a total brat." His side throbbed. "For when I thought I knew better than you, I just wanted—" He gave a shaky sigh and pushed a hand through his hair. "I just wanted what was best for everyone. I know I can be stubborn when I want everyone to live—"

Everyone _will_ live.

He's just not so sure if _he_ will.

 _"Tsunayoshi Sawada,"_ Reborn said, his voice low and almost concerned. _"What in fuck's name is going on?"_

"—and that just doesn't work sometimes." He was proud that his voice didn't crack at all. "Someone's gonna die, sooner or later. This life we have…it's dangerous. That's what you told me from the start, and that was why I didn't want in. I didn't want anyone in."

 _"Sawada."_

"You—everyone. I love everyone, and I'd love it if everyone was with me in this life. But I guess I have to accept the fact that not everyone is as strong as you. Can handle the job of a mafioso. Can handle—"

 _Dying._

 _Martyrdom._

 _Suicide._

He swallowed the odd lump in his throat.

"This is…Reborn. I hope you understand—"

 _Hope you understand that I would fucking die for you because goddammit, Reborn, I'm in fucking love with y—_

 _"Tsuna, where the fuck are you right now?!"_

"—that this is for everyone. I'm…I'm sorry that it had to—to end like this, as corny as it sounds. But truly. I am sorry. I'm sorry I can't be there for the ending of the biggest fight this Famiglia will be going through."

 _"I'm tracking this phone right now, don't you dare—"_

"You have been the most important part of my life, Reborn, and…I just—I love you. So much."

 _Too much._

"And I could never help myself when it comes to you. You've just been so important and always _there_ that I never thought that I could love you in more ways than one. Or that I'd—"

 _Miss you when you're gone._

 _Miss you in my time of dying._

 _Call you for my last words._

Tsuna felt the cold metal of the gun's muzzle against the temple of his head, and despite his wound, despite his not completely foolproof plan, despite every flaw and every mistake, despite the uncertainty of the future, he smiled.

"I love you, Renato Sinclair," Tsuna whispered, his breath already slowing. "Always have, always will."

 _"TSUNA—"_

The loud _bang!_ came before the bullet entered his head.

He has all this ringing in his ears and he felt like he was _floating._

 **:X:**

 **A/N: …lol. Sorry if I failed at making it sad. It was mostly dialogue so I think I kinda failed at making it sad.**

 **ALSO I AM SO SO SO SO SO SO SORRY FOR THOSE WHO READ** _ **DESECRATE THROUGH REVERENCE**_ **I AM ON AN ONGOING WAR WITH THAT STUPID STORY.**


End file.
